


Circle

by honeynoir (bracelets)



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-08 21:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bracelets/pseuds/honeynoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The end is the beginning and the Doctor helps. A missing scene from FotD.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Circle

**Author's Note:**

> Very vague spoilers for S7.

The Doctor was fixing the data core, stabilising the mainframe, just as CAL had told him he had way way way back when. Just as he’d told CAL, oh, a minute ago, when he’d plonked a fez made out of zeros and ones onto her head and said TrustmeI’mtheDoctor. (She’d said she knew that, and he’d complimented her on the lack of pixellation.)

He could have had the Ponds there, awkwardly passing River’s diary between them and killing him with their eyes. He could have had his brand new girl, snagging her hair on the shelves and chatting at everyone, not realising because he wouldn’t have told her… He could have had himself, and Donna, had he dared. Instead he has Lux making pleased noises and pawing at his shoulder. (The man had asked for help and the Doctor had stepped out of the shadows and… well, helped.)

Full circle, as the saying went; appealing because of the, well, shape, if nothing else.

He digs around in a pocket (of a jacket that’s dark and boring but very apt, very fitting in, very Library) and finds a pencil that tastes like liquorice or maybe it’s liquorice that tastes like pencil and bites down on it, and then he types the last bit of code and presses enter (with a flourish). There. All done. Fixed and stabilised and everyone uploaded. (And he’s had time to put up that painting of himself and tidy up a little and remove the picture-less definitive work written by a man he knew very well indeed.)

He’s wearing a ruby bowtie and braces clasps of Venusian gold and a smile. He’s worried his lip raw and his hair is dented by a fez he hasn’t really worn.

He can still hear the towers.


End file.
